Jenny the Killer Origins: Sweet Eternal Dreams
by Yuki Usagi-Chan
Summary: At the tender age of 3, Jennifer Madelyn Hawkins was abandoned at a mental asylum by her family for her "unusual" behavior. After 2 years of chemical and physical abuse, she meets the most twisted mass-murdered in the country who has one intent for her: to make her his apprentice. And Jenny has a score to settle. First Creepypasta and Jeff is slightly OOC. Please review.


**Hey everyone! Yuki-chan here! So, I've been into Creepypasta for a year now and I've created some OCs. This is the backstory of one of them, Jenny the Killer. For those of you who think that Jenny is just another lame younger female version of Jeff, let me just that. . .that is SO ****NOT**** how it is.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Creepypasta, Jeff, or any other Creepypasta characters. They belong to their respective owners. Jenny and all other characters belong to me.**

**I apologize if this isn't very creepy, I'm not good at horror. Also, I'm sorry if Jeff is OOC. I tried. Oh, and if you see a ***_bleep_***, you can probably guess what that means. One last thing, this story is mostly told through a flashback, though it kinda seems like it's in the first person.**

"We interrupt this program to bring you a special news bulletin. The following story may be unsuitable for younger audiences. Viewer discretion is advised" came from the public broadcast system on the T.V. ABC news then came on.

"Good evening everyone. I am Diane Sawyer here reporting live from our studio broadcast center with an update on the recent murders that have been ravaging the country. As you already know, the serial killer, known as Jeffrey Woods, who started his murderous spree ten years, ago is still on the loose. However, he may have some competition. A few months ago, another serial killer sprung up in the state of Massachusetts. Due to some complicated matters, the case was kept quiet by state police. However, thanks to an anonymous tip, we are able to report the case.

Just a few hours ago, a young couple was found dead in the bedroom of their small Boston home. The young woman was found with five stab wounds in her stomach, several deeps cuts on her arms and legs, and strange patterns carved on her skin. The young man was apparently in the shower when his girlfriend was attacked. He was found dead in the shower with the water still running. According to an autopsy report, he had his head smashed against the shower door, his throat was slit, he was beaten with a towel bar and, like his girlfriend, he had strange patterns on his skin.

Investigators say that a simple kitchen knife was used as the murder weapon. The strangest part about the case includes two things. The first being that each of the victims had sort of a smile carved into their faces and the second being that the entire house was trashed as if the killer was looking for something. The police have no idea as to what that something is, but they're getting the feeling that this new killer and the one that started his spree ten years ago may be connected in some way.

Also, police may have a description of this new killer. A young girl who had survived one of the killer's attacks is here with us this evening and, after debating it, has decided, for the sake of other people's lives, to tell us her story. Please bravely welcome Mary Kent! Okay Mary, would you like us to tell your story?" Sawyer asked.

The camera focused on a ten year-old girl with light brown hair and dark gray eyes. She kept her gaze on the news anchor.

"I had a bad dream that night. I dreamt that some weird girl was chasing me. She was just about to catch me when I woke up. I was sweaty and my heart was racing for some reason. I felt a cool wind and that's when I noticed that the window was open. The thing is, I know I closed it before I went to bed, but I don't remember if I locked it or not. I got up and closed the window. Once I did, I crawled back under the covers and tried to go back to sleep.

I laid there for a few minutes and that's when I got the strangest feeling. I felt like someone was watching me. I buried myself under my covers and I was scared as to what I would see, but I decided to look anyway. At the foot of my bed was a girl, a year older than myself, I think. She looked like the girl from my dream. She had really long black hair, I think it stopped just below her butt. She also had snow white skin, blood splotches on her face and hands, and she was dressed in all black. In her hair, she had thin white hair ribbons, one on both sides on her head, with faint blood stains.

But what really freaked me out were her eyes. They were pink, either rose pink or hot pink. She didn't have pink eye, the iris' of her eyes were pink. She was grinning at me and had kind of a crazy look in her eyes. I was about to speak when she pressed a finger to her lips and said, in a eerie voice, "Shhhhhhhhh. . ."

She grinned again. I started to sit up, but I felt something throw me back on my bed. The girl had her hand stretched out, like she was stopping something. I tried to sit up again, but I couldn't move. My body wouldn't let me move. It felt like someone was pinning me down, but no one was on top of me. Then, I felt myself being lift off the bed. It was like my bed just disappeared out from under me. I opened my eyes and that's when I realized that I was in mid-air above my bed.

I was upright, like I was levitating. I looked at the girl. She still had her hand out. She was smiling up at me then she slowly started to curl her fingers. I then felt like someone was choking me. It was so scary, I couldn't breathe! The girl smirked at me and she pulled her hand back towards herself. I felt myself floating towards her.

I was at the foot of my bed, my legs were several inches from her face. She smirked up at me and that's when I saw a flash of light. It was a knife! I started to cry, but she was still choking me, so crying was even harder. She said to me, in a creepy, deep breathing voice:

"Just. . .Go. To. Sleep! " she paused for a second then added, ". . .sweet eternal dreams. . ."

I managed to scream and that's what got her started. She started slashing my legs and arms. I screamed, it hurt really bad. I think she was going to stab me in the stomach, when my Daddy burst through the door. I felt myself fall back on my bed. The girl rushed at Daddy and somehow, without touching him, forced him on the floor. She got on top of him and starting from his left hip, slowly edged a diagonal line all the way up to his right shoulder with her knife. **(1)** Daddy was screaming and I thought he was gonna die!

I heard police sirens and that's when the girl got off of Daddy. I heard her go down the stairs. Everything was quiet for a moment, and then the whole house gave a massive jolt. I heard several things breaking and it sounded like a wrecking ball had bashed through our house. I ran downstairs and saw that the entire front wall of our living room had been blown out. All the windows at the front of the house were blown out too. Everything was destroyed. Some of the police cars were covered in the remnants of the living room wall.

I saw the girl run across the street and into the woods. No one noticed her. I still have nightmares about that girl and I keep wondering if she'll come back for me" Mary finished, sobbing fearfully.

Sawyer smiled sadly. "Thank you sweetie. I hope your story helps us. Pictures of the recent murders are too graphic to show. To wrap up here, police are suspecting that this new, and surprisingly young, killer _may_ have connections with the serial killer known as Jeffrey Woods. Remember, if you see anyone with this description, contact your local police station. This has been Diane Sawyer with the evening news on ABC. Have a safe night everyone" and then the T.V was turned off.

Several individuals were in the room, completely still and silent.

***Break line* **

Oh! Heh heh heh, hi there! My name is Jennifer Madelyn Hawkins. Or, at least that _used_ to be who I was. Though I sometimes go by that name, I prefer Jenny the Killer. You, on the other hand, can call me Jenny. Now, I know for a fact that no one has any knowledge of my existence. I assume you don't either. Well, that's why I'm here. Heh heh!

My story is sad, somewhat horrific and depressing. It all starts in the city of Boston, Massachusetts, about 11 years ago. I was born into the Hawkins family. They were a rather prestigious group and enjoyed the comforts of upper-class society. The head of the family, Richard Hawkins, my father, was a well respected man and also a very successful doctor and a die-hard religious individual.

He and his wife, my mother, Nicole, had three beautiful daughters, Emily, Pamela, and Amanda, all with promising futures. Not only that, my mother was expecting their fourth daughter and child. Me!

Sounds like this is going to be a happy story, right?

Heh heh heh heh. . .not even close. . .

My family didn't know it yet, but things were not always going to be sunshine and happiness.

My mother went into labor a month early and was rushed to the hospital. It was a Sunday and church had just let out when Mommy felt her water break. My family piled into Daddy's SUV and rushed to the hospital as quickly as possible.

After arriving at their destination and enduring six hours of labor, Mommy gave birth to a baby girl, me. Despite being one month early, I was healthy and strong. My happy parents named me: Jennifer Madelyn Hawkins. I had gorgeous dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes.

For a while, we lived a happy and peaceful life. Emily and Pamela went to their private schools and enjoyed their social lives and limitless shopping budgets, Amanda was in the process of finishing elementary school, Mommy worked from home and spent much of her time with me, and Daddy indulged himself in his practice and prayed every night.

However, this happiness lasted until I was three years old. A week after my third birthday, I began to exhibit behaviors that were highly unusual for a three year-old. I spoke in strange tongues, many of which did not make sense and sounded demonic. When Daddy tried to read a passage from the Bible at dinner one night, I covered my ears, screaming and hissing like a wild animal. I was able to speak in full sentences and use rather big and impressive words. One time, my eldest sister, Emily, was watching me while doing some homework, when she noticed that I had gotten a hold of a ball of twine from Mommy's craft basket, which sat beside Daddy's reading chair.

Emily also noticed how I was carrying my doll. . .I had it by the neck in my right hand and the ball of twine in my left. Emily smiled.

"What are you doing, you silly girl? Going to tie up your doll?" she asked, cooing lightly. I didn't say anything, except: "No. I'm punishing her"

At this, Emily smiled a bit more, enjoying my cuteness, "You silly girl!" I said nothing more and walked to my little play area, where the rest of my dolls were scattered. Emily shrugged and went back to her work.

About 15 minutes passed when I tugged at her sweater. She looked down at me. I held up my doll and the twine. "Sissy, will you help me punish her?" I asked, in a cute voice while gesturing to the doll. Emily put down her pencil and smiled. "Sure, I could use a quick break anyway" she said, cheerfully.

She took the doll and the twine from my tiny hands. Unraveling about a yard of twine, she cut the end with scissors and began to wrap the twine around the doll, as if tying her up. I suddenly grabbed my sister's hands, startling her. "No Sissy! Not around her, around her neck!" I shouted.

Emily froze. She seemed scared. At the time, I wasn't sure why. But, now that I think about it, it's obvious. My "request" was. . .disturbing, to say the least. Still, I had to snap her out of it.

"Sissy?" At the sound of my voice, Emily snapped back to reality. She shook her head and smiled. "Sorry baby sis! I got lost in my thoughts. Let's "punish" your doll now" she said sweetly. Emily moved the doll's hair aside and coiled the twine around the toy's neck three times and tied it with a strong knot. After checking to see if it was secure enough, she gave me the other end of the twine, which was really long.

I smiled, hugging her, and went to the bottom of the staircase and started up, dragging the doll behind me. Emily watched me until I disappeared. An hour passed, I was in my room, playing with my other toys. I had "punished" my doll. She had "done" some nasty things to me.

Then, there sound of the front door opening followed by an "Emily, I'm back!" which rang throughout the house. My head snapped up. Daddy was home. I grinned, but not in the normal way child would when hearing her parent's return. I think. . .it was a grin that you'd see on a deranged psychopath in a horror film. My room was a bit out of sorts too, much like myself, not like a room you would expect a three year-old girl to have. The walls were pink with posters of Disney princesses. But, the walls also had strange designs in red paint. I had finger-painted weird symbols such as a tall stick figure in a suit, a circle with an "X" through it, red handprints, and some stick figures who, now that I think about it, looked to be bleeding out. My bed was pink, but covered in the stuffing from my stuffed animals. I had practically gouged out their stuffing with safety scissors and spread the material everywhere.

A few of my dolls no longer had heads. I had dipped the bottom of the head and the neck part on the body in my Crayola red paint from my art easel. After that, I shoved all the now red dolls in my toy box, which also had red handprints. I didn't have any playmates because all the other parents in the neighborhood kept their kids away from me. That was fine, I didn't like any of the kids anyway. I preferred being alone.

After observing my room, I listened to Sissy and Daddy's conversation.

Daddy asked about me and if anything. . . "unusual" had happened. I heard Emily recount what had happened, but she dismissed it as the silly behavior of a small child. Reluctantly, Daddy agreed. He then went up stairs and was about to go into his room, when he saw something hanging from the stair rail. It looked like twine.

Daddy sighed. I always had a habit of tying things to the stair rail. He exhaled in annoyance and went to untie the twine. He grabbed it, but when he did, he felt a weight on the other end. He looked down and saw a doll tied to the other end. He pulled it up and gasped in horror at what he saw. He was so frightened that he nearly dropped the toy again.

The doll had the twine coiled around its neck and its face had tiny specks of red paint on its face. Obviously, I had used paint or marker to create the specks. Nonetheless, the doll had been hung like a witch at the Salem Witch trials.

This frightened Daddy, who was a hardcore religious man. My bedroom door was open, so I had seen everything.

"I had to punish her"

Daddy's head shot up and he saw me standing in the doorway. My eyes were half-lidded and I smiled, a very, very creepy and unusual smile. Daddy stared wide-eyed, too horrified by my actions. He could also see from where he was standing that I had also painted, in big red letters:

JUST GO TO SLEEP. . .SWEET ETERNAL DREAMS. . .

On my pink bedroom wall.

I pointed to the writing and smiled sweetly. "See what I did Daddy? What I wrote and what I did to that doll? She hurt me, Daddy. I had to hurt her. I tried to tuck her in for a nap and she hit me. I got angry, so I had Sissy tie the string around her neck. Dolly was barely breathing at that point. I told her that if she said she was sorry, I would let her go. She refused, so I clawed at her face. I used red paint for the blood" I asked.

My father, still unable to speak, began to tremble.

"Dolly had passed out by that point, and I didn't know what to do, so I tied her to the rail and let her think for a while. I guess she's done thinking now. But. . .it looks like I'll never get her answer" I murmured. Daddy shook with immense fear now. He could think of nothing but the "dead" doll, the red writing on my bedroom wall, and my creepy smile. Still watching him, I walked back into my room and sat down on the plush white bunny rug. Daddy slowly made his way into my room. Once he saw everything, he looked like he would have a heart attack. He slammed against the wall, which I had just covered in freshly painted symbols. His hand smeared the stick figures in suits.

"Hey! You ruined my wall pictures!" I growled. He looked down at his now red hands and paled. He looked behind him to see the red symbols. He froze, wide-eyed.

"J-Jennifer. W-what is the m-meaning of t-this?!" he stuttered out.

"It's just wall pictures. Why so serious. . . ?" I asked, my tone becoming strange. He turned to me, ready to scold me. When he saw what I had done to my face. Using the red paint, I had drawn a big, red smile on my face I grinned, showing my teeth. He started to shake.

"Aren't I pwetty, Daddy?"

Without another thought, he threw the doll at me, which hit me in the face, and scrambled down the staircase, screaming, "EMILY! EMILY! CALL YOUR MOTHER! YOUR SISTER IS BEWITCHED!"

***Intermission* **

After a frantic ordeal, my family drove downtown to see a psychiatrist, who examined me thoroughly. He, too, was surprised at the my strange behavior. Normally, it took an hour, or hour and a half, to fully understand a patient's problem, but with me, it took hours of the man's time. My family sat in the waiting room, bored and concerned, I guess. The man asked me countless questions, many of which I don't remember. I remember one question in particular, one that seemed to stand out now.

"Is anyone telling you to do these things? To scare your family?" I just sat there, staring at him. His question was interesting. I smiled and said, ". . .No. . ."

"Okay. Have you experienced anything strange recently?"

"The feeling. . ."

"What feeling?"

"The one in my head. . ."

"I see. And what does this _feeling _feel like, exactly?"

"It feels funny. . .it makes me giggle. . ."

"Okay. Anything else?"

". . .No. . ." I smirked.

Finally, after hours of waiting, the psychiatrist, known as Dr. Sebastian Monroe, called them in. He explained that, out of all the cases he had seen, mine was the most bizarre. At first, he suggested therapy. About five doctors asked me questions. I can't remember what they asked me about exactly. I think some of the questions were about, if I was hearing voices, having weird dreams, if someone was telling me to act this way, blah, blah, blah. I just told them that I wanted to do these things. That I _wanted_ to behave this way.

They, being the idiots they were, all drew up the same bloody conclusion: I had a *_bleep_* mental disorder.

After that idiocy, Dr. Monroe suggested putting me in a mental hospital for a few days and see how it went, since I was too young to be put on medication.

Daddy seemed _so_ desperate at this point, that he was willing to try anything. So, my family checked me into the Boston Mental Institution a.k.a Boston Asylum for the Mentally Ill. They soon learned that Dr. Monroe was the director and head of the asylum. He seemed like an honest and good-natured man. He was in his late sixties, but in good health. His hair was cloud white and he had a clean white beard and friendly light green eyes.

After being checked in to this nut house, I was escorted to my room by a nurse. She took me into a room and began to take off my clothes. I watched as she dumped my skirt and my hoodie on the floor. She pulled a hospital garb out of the laundry bin and slipped it over my head. My short brown hair was ruffled and messy. My brown eyes grew duller with each moment that passed. I knew I was going to hate it here.

Day after day, my parents came in to check on me. Daddy read a passage from the Bible to me. He thought it might counteract the demon inside of me. It didn't however. I snatched the Bible from his hands and skimmed through. I quickly got bored and tossed it back to him. He caught it and glared at me.

"That is no way to treat a holy book, young lady!"

I smirked and crumpled something in my fist. Daddy grabbed my hand and pried it open. In my hand, was the page of the Seven Deadly Sins, all crumpled. Daddy stared in horror. I smirked at him.

"I like this page, Daddy. . .tell me about it" I said. Daddy ripped the page from my hand.

"You-you. . .What _are _you?!" he screamed. Before I could respond, he ran from the room. As he left, I cocked my head. Nothing unusual about it, just something I do a lot. Mommy came to see me then. She brought me candy, a teddy bear and some Disney books. I held the bear and ate small amounts of chocolate as she read "Robin Hood" to me. For some odd reason, I always liked Mommy more than Daddy. At least _she _didn't call me a demon. She was good to me and her visits always made me forget about the asylum.

Well, whenever she visited, she always stayed until visiting hours were over. That made me happy. But, the good times can't last forever. I discovered that all too soon. During my parents' last visit, Mommy had made a truly unexpected confession to Daddy.

She had had an affair with one of Daddy's business associates. How do I know this? They were outside my room when Mommy told Daddy. Well, Daddy stood, wide-eyed, shocked. When he managed to regain his composure, he exploded. Mommy cried as he shouted. They were so loud that every patient heard them. Everyone was so focused on their conversation, that even the nurses stopped what they were doing. From my room, I stared at the tiled wall, a blank expression on my face.

I listened to my father's shouts and my mother's sobs. As I allowed myself to drift into nothingness, I felt a strange urge course through my body. I felt something. . ._demonic_, at the time. Then a bunch of images flashed in front of my eyes. I saw someone, or _something_, that was tall and slender. It wore a suit, was completely white, had no face, and seemed to focus on me. I grinned back.

"Shhh. . .It's okay Mommy. . .Hey Daddy. Just. . . go to sleep. . .sweet eternal dreams. . ."

That's when I grabbed the bear Mommy brought me and ripped off its head.

***Intermission* **

It was 8 p.m, around the time Dr. Monroe was finishing the last of his paperwork. From what I heard, Daddy and Mommy had been separated to prevent any violence. I was sitting in my room, staring blankly at the *_bleep_* wall. I had the insatiable desire to feel hurt, that way I could hurt Daddy. Make him feel pain for making Mommy cry and for not understanding me. I was awoken from my thoughts when the head nurse came in. She took out a small piece of paper and read it to me:

_Dear Dr. Monroe, _

_I have recently discovered that my wife had an affair with a colleague of mine. Naturally, I am outraged by this. I have decided to forgive her though. However, there is one problem. She is not sure whether I am Jennifer's father or my colleague is. I cannot raise another man's child. Not only that, I have reason to believe that this is not a child of God, but of the Devil. She acts like a demon and I can't take this insanity anymore. I have obtained the paperwork and have made you her legal guardian. Do with her what you will. She is no longer welcome in this family. She is dead to me. I apologize for dumping this burden on you. I hope you can forgive me. _

_-Sincerely, Richard Hawkins. _

Before the nurse left, she told me, in way that I could understand, what was going to happen to me. I was very sad, and then very angry. How could they do this to me? What did I do to them to deserve abandonment ? All I ever did was love them! My mouth formed into a snarl. Everything was starting to fit together, the more I thought about what I had been told.

This wasn't my mother's fault, nor my sisters'. No. . .

It was Daddy's. . .

All because he was such a die-hard religious man. . .

I was angry, no. . .that's not it. Furious. Enraged.

Oh, I would get him for this. . .eventually.

"You moron! I'll get you for this! What did I ever do to you, HUH?! Well, guess what? You can just. . .Go. To. Sleep! Have sweet eternal dreams. . ." I screamed. I began thrashing madly and rammed myself into every object around me. The bed, the walls, the nightstand, the chair, every single object I spotted, I ran right into it at full speed.

During my rampage, I had obtained bruising and cuts on my arms and legs. My head was bleeding from slamming it against the walls. I had gotten my blood everywhere: on the walls, on the bed sheets, on the bullet-proof glass window looking into the room. My screams were heard by the remaining nurses, who had not left for the night.

They rushed to my room and were horrified by the bloodied mess. Two nurses grabbed me and pinned me down on the bed, locking the restraints around me wrists and ankles. The head nurse pulled an I.V. into the room and began to look for a blood vessel.

It took four nurses to hold me down while the head nurse readied the needle. I continued to thrash and scream. A few of the nurses wanted to let go, just to get away from me. The head nurse attempted at least ten times to put the needle in carefully, but my thrashing made it impossible. She decided to take her chances and jammed the needle into my arm. Miraculously, she hit the vein she had been aiming for.

She flipped the switch and the clear liquid shot down through the tube and entered the needle. My thrashing began to lessen, indicating that the I.V had entered my body successfully. After a minute or so, I was still and my eyes were half-lidded. I lifted my head, or at least, attempted to, but the I.V was preventing me from doing so. The nurses piled out of the room. The head nurse was about to follow, when she heard me speak.

"Dad. . .dy. . .Mom. . .my. . .Sis. . .sy" she whispered. The head nurse walked over to the bed and put her finger to her lips.

"It's alright now, child. Everything will be just fine" she said softly. I tried to say more, but the I.V had knocked me out. This is where the pain and torment is going to begin for me. I didn't know it yet, but in this particular institution, no one was as they seemed.

***Intermission* **

Two years.

It had been two *bleep* years since I came to the Boston Asylum. Since I was abandoned by my family. Since I came to live in this hell.

That's right. The asylum was not what it seemed. Everyone in Boston believed that it was a kind facility that treated its residents with love and care.

Sadly, that was not the case.

Sebastian Monroe, the head of the hospital, was actually a doctor who used his patients as test subjects for his experiments. He had no concern for the well-being of these people. All he saw were a bunch of mentally unstable individuals that no one understood or wanted. He figured that if they died because of his experiments, no one would miss them and no one would be able to tell a soul. All that were employed by the facility were sworn to secrecy. If that didn't work, then they were bribed with large sums of cash to keep quiet. And if that didn't keep their mouths shut, they or their families would be threatened. Most of the time, it never came to the last option.

These "experiments" that the patients had to endure are considered indescribable. Let's just say, there was a lot of blood, screaming, and instability. Dr. Monroe's experiments consisted of disembowelment, draining blood, injecting lethal amounts of drugs, electrocution, and other painful procedures. One of the few who had suffered the most was, in fact, myself.

After Dr. Monroe received guardianship of me, he had decided to use me as a guinea pig for untested drugs and medications. I suffered not only drug abuse against my will, but physical abuse. When I wouldn't cooperate or hold still long enough, the nurses had to hit, punch, and kick me to keep me in a daze long enough to inject the drugs.

No one is sure how many drugs were, and still are, swimming inside my body. Several hundred types of varying drugs were poured into my helpless form. They were given to me in different ways. Most of the time, they were injected. Other times, they were breathed in, and very rarely, mixed into my food and drink. These drugs made me ungodly sick, yet they enhanced my abilities as well. I became stronger, faster, smarter, better, more skillful than possible. Many different kinds of drugs and medications were given to me every day for two years. Two, long, unnerving, unbearable, crappy years.

At first, nurses expected me to die within six months from an ungodly and unbelievable vast drug overdose, yet somehow, I overcame the odds and had survived, which was far beyond impossible. Dr. Monroe believed me to have a very strong, incredible immune system. It was either that, or the will of God.

No one was quite sure.

Now 5 years old, I was sitting on a hospital bed, which was bolted to the floor. My once gorgeous, glossy dark brown hair, was messy, un-brushed, and splotched with blood from my head wounds. Dry blood caked my cute face and my dark brown eyes, though emotionless, still held the gentle light and innocence I, as a young child, was suppose to have. I wore a light blue hospital garb, which was also stained with dried blood, old food and drink, spilled I.V and other liquid drugs. I smelled rancid.

One could not enter my room without nearly passing out from the irritable fumes, unless they were used to them. Did I forget to mention that this place isn't very sanitary? Heh heh, my apologizes.

"Ms. Jennifer, I have your lunch" came a soft, motherly voice. I snapped from my thoughts and turned my head towards the door. In came a young woman, somewhere in her early thirties, carrying a tray of food. She had auburn hair tied up in a bun and gentle blue eyes. She was my nurse.

I smiled. "Hi Miss Becky!" I squeaked. The nurse, whose real name was Rebecca Anderson, smiled back. Since my admission, Rebecca had been my nurse. Unlike the other nurses, Rebecca was gentle, warm, loving, and had a lot of patience. She knew how to treat a small child, even if she had no children of her own.

Nurse Anderson placed the tray on my lap. She noticed the my messy face and reached into her pocket. She kept a small box of disinfectant cloths in the apron of her nurse's uniform. She pulled out one cloth and wiped the grime off my sweet face. I smiled in thanks and started eating my food.

Despite the brutal treatment and unsanitary conditions, the patients were well fed for the sole purpose of keeping them alive. As I finished chewing a piece of me sandwich, I spoke.

"I want to see Makenzie and Henry" I said bluntly. Rebecca had been fluffing my pillow. She looked up.

"Oh, well. . .you know of course that I must accompany you if you want to talk to another patient. It's not my rule, it's-"

"-the Director's rule. I know. 'If a patient wants to engage in a conversation with another patient, the patient's nurse must escort him/her to the other patient's room. Under no circumstances are patients allowed to leave their rooms without a nurse escort.'" I stated, reciting the rule as if by memory.

Nurse Anderson blinked, impressed. Of course, this wasn't new. I recited whatever I heard around the facility. My memory for even the smallest details was impressive. Though, this skill was assumed as a side-effect of one of the many drugs that flowed through my veins.

"Well, when you're done, I can take you to Makenzie's room. Then Henry's" Rebecca replied. I said nothing, but nodded and took another bite of my sandwich. My nurse continued to wipe the dried blood from my small face, happily humming as she did so.

Once I finished eating and my face was clean, Nurse Anderson draped a clean white blanket on the my shoulders and opened the door for me. I shuffled down the dimly lit hall. Even though it was a little past noon, the hospital was slightly dark. I never gave it much thought. It was just another typical day for me.

As I walked, with my nurse's comforting hand on my shoulder, I heard high-pitched screams, power tools whirling, splatters of unknown substances, loud crashes, and the frantic shouts of nurses and doctors. Nothing new. This was just an average day at the Boston Mental Institution.

Once we reached Makenzie's room, Nurse Anderson knocked on the door. I attempted to peer into the large, bullet-proof glass window that was beside the door. Sadly, I wasn't tall enough and jumping never helped either. We waited for a moment, and the door opened to reveal Makenzie's nurse. She saw me trying to peer into the window and sighed.

"Another visit?" she asked.

"If it's not too much trouble" Rebecca replied, gesturing for me to come over. Makenzie's nurse looked down disdainfully at me. My mouth, which showed no emotion, turned into a smirk. The nurse sighed again.

"Fine. But make it quick. Ms. Makenzie is due for an operation soon. Luckily for you, I've just finished the preparations. You have 2 minutes" she stated. The woman grabbed her clipboard and strode out the room without another word to either of us. We entered the room.

On the bed was a young woman. She looked to be in her mid twenties and she had shoulder length blond hair, which was messy and tangled. Her dark olive eyes held no emotion. She seemed to be staring out into space. Nurse Anderson gestured with her head, giving me the 'okay' to approach the young woman. "Makenzie?" I asked, tilting my head.

The young woman, Makenzie, snapped from her trance and looked down at me. She smiled.

"'Ello Jenny. Been ta the Nightmare Room recently? I'm goin' in there ta-day. I heard those bloody wanker doctors talkin'. Said their gunna put some kinda do-hicky in me waist. Said it was gonna make me stronger. Ha! That there's a buncha crap!" she said, rather happily. She used her index finger and gestured for me to come closer. When I did, Makenzie leaned down. "And ya know what? I ain't scared. Nope! Not this girl! Listen," she paused, her tone getting dark, "I've been here longer than you have, girly. I know what they gunna do to ya once ya stop improvin'" she murmured.

She took her index and drew it across her neck. I didn't falter. This was normal for Makenzie. I had learned a lot about many of the patients since I entered the institution. Makenzie was demented, her only living family were her brothers, mother, and sister-in-law, she spoke strangely, she was British by birth(which was obvious because of her accent), and she claimed that she could predict the future.

Her self-proclaimed ability to predict the future was the reason she was in the facility in the first place. Her brothers checked her in after she told them that their mother was going to die in a car wreck in a year or two. They thought she was crazy, which she was. I saw her as a fellow mental patient and friend. Makenzie had taught me how to read people's expressions. She said that by doing that, you could tell what they were thinking. I had yet to try that. She also taught me some British slang. It's fun when someone says a word that can have many different meanings. I laugh sometimes, it's always funny.

Nurse Anderson was watching us when Makenzie's nurse came in.

"Sorry, but this visit is over. Ms. Makenzie, it's time for your operation. I need the two of you to get out" she said professionally. Without a command, I clutched my blanket and trotted after my nurse. Back in the hallway, I said, "Henry. I want to see Henry. I want to see if he needs to go to sleep" I whispered. Nurse Anderson nodded.

"Okay! Let's go see Henry!" she said cheerfully. She was the only one who accepted my "Just go to sleep. . .into the void. . ." line. No one had any idea what it truly meant, not even me, all we knew was that when I said it, the atmosphere became uncomfortable. But for some reason, I felt a rush of joy when I said it. Well, we walked down the hallway to a door at the end. Above the door, a broken light flickered every few seconds.

This door didn't have a bullet-proof glass window next to it. Rather, the window in the door had a dried, bloody hand-print on it. Nurse Anderson had to listen for any sort of sound before opening the door. Henry was a very, _very _strange person. He had survived a seriously bad car wreck, but for some odd reason, he began to hallucinate. Watching him freak out was quite amusing, but at other times, it was frightening.

He often believed his right arm was a King Cobra snake and screamed for someone to get it away. I always found myself out of breath from laughing at Henry's insanity. Of course, if I laughed too much and Henry noticed, he'd attack me. Though we were friends, my nurse was always cautious before entering the man's room.

Nurse Anderson listened intently for any noise, but she heard none. She lightly knocked on the door. Suddenly, Henry slammed up against the tiny window. He had short, dark brown hair that was messy and stained with blood. His eyes were a blue-green color and he had freckles across his nose. He looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties. Rebecca leapt back, clutching her chest, startled. I didn't falter. I had seen just about everything in that jacked-up place. Nothing was new, like Henry's screaming.

"HELP! The snake! The snake's trying to kill me! Get it away! Get it AWAY!"

And then. . .

"Ahahahahahahahahahaha! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!" I burst out laughing. As Henry screamed, I laughed like crazy. Tears were coming out of my eyes. I found myself short of breath. After a minute or two, Henry stopped his hysterics and glared, wide-eyed at me. I was clutching her stomach, streams of tears rolled down my cheeks.

Henry snarled and began slamming against the door. "YOU LITTLE BRAT! GET IN HERE SO I CAN RIP YOUR HEAD OFF! I'D LOVE TO SPILL YOUR GUTS ALL OVER THE FLOOR YOU LITTLE PIECE OF CRAP! HOW _DARE _YOU LAUGH AT ME!" he screamed, slamming against the door. He clawed at the door's window, tearing up his fingers. Little streams of fresh blood formed on the window.

I stopped laughing and I smirked. The door was locked. He couldn't get to me even if he tried. Nurse Anderson quickly took me away. Behind us, Henry was still screaming. "JUST WAIT LITTLE GIRL! ONCE I GET OUT OF HERE, YOU'RE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME?! DEAD!" I laughed a little bit more, not caring at all.

Rebecca informed Henry's nurse what had happened and she, along with two doctors, ran to the man's room to calm him. "O. . .kay. . .I think maybe we should get you back to your room now, Ms. Jennifer" Nurse Anderson said calmly. I looked up at her and smiled.

"That's fine. I'm kinda tired anyway. . ." I murmured, trailing off. We went back to my room. The bed sheets had been changed, though the walls still had splotches of dried blood and strange drawings. Whenever I bleed, I use my own blood for paint and draw the symbols. I felt more at home by doing that. The nurses never bothered to scrub them away. It's not like this place has ever been cleaned. Nurse Anderson helped me onto the bed and tucked me in. I situated myself to get comfortable, when I felt something behind my pillow.

"Um, Ms. Becky?"

"Yes dear?" the nurse replied.

"There's something under my pillow" I murmured. Nurse Anderson stood up and carefully, reached behind the pillow. She felt something soft, like cloth, touch her hand. She squeezed it. It didn't feel alive, so she gripped it tight and slowly, pulled it out.

It was a stuffed animal. A white rabbit, to be more descriptive. A bloody black ribbon was wrapped around its neck so tight, that if it were alive, it would have either suffocated or its spinal cord would have snapped.

"Seems like someone brought you a gift. But, from what I recall, all packages are to be dropped off at the lobby and a nurse is the one who delivers them. I don't recall a message about a package for you. And, is this real blood or are those splotches a part of the ribbon's pattern?" Nurse Anderson asked, sounding concerned. She sniffed the ribbon, but because she had worked in the asylum for some time now, she couldn't distinguish scents. She just shrugged and settled the bunny beside me.

The woman picked up her clipboard and strode out of the room, heading towards the lobby. I hugged my rabbit and settled down into the sheets. I didn't require an I.V for rest, I only needed it for my episodes. As I slipped into the dream world, I couldn't help but feel like something, or _someone_, was watching me. Hugging my rabbit closer to me, I quietly fell asleep.

***A few hours later. . .* **

I woke up suddenly, feeling uneasy. The feeling that I had felt before during my time with my family came back. It tingled and it felt stronger. I looked around quickly. I had been asleep for some time now and the moonlight shone through the barred-window some feet across from me. I felt a cool wind rush into the room and suddenly, I realized something.

Patients weren't allowed to have windows open in their rooms, even if they were barred. Why was the window open? And more importantly. . .

Where were the bars?

It looked as though someone had pried them off. I tilted my small head in confusion. What was going on? Was I dreaming? I looked around the room. Aside from the moonlight coming from the window and the dim flickering of a ceiling light in the hall, everything was pitch black. I couldn't see a thing, except. . .

I saw the outline of someone at the end of my bed. For a split second, my heartbeat quickened. Who was that?! What were they doing in my room?! Clutching my bunny tight, I called out. "Hello? Is someone there? Dr. Monroe? Miss Becky?! Hello?"

It was quiet for a moment, then the other person spoke. "Hehehehehe. . .Hello there, little girl. Hehehehehe. . .don't mind me" the person said, lightly chuckling. I could tell it was a man, or at least a boy in his late teens. The figure came closer and my eyes grew to the size of saucers.

The young man, if you could even call him that, looked to be 17. He had pale, ghost white skin and a tall, lanky frame. His hair, which fell to his shoulders, was pitch black and messy. His eyes were an extremely light shade of blue and he wore a white hoodie, which had red stains, black jeans, and red converse which seemed muddy. But what was so interesting about the guy was his lack of eyelids, because I had not once seen him blink, and the big, creepy, smile that was carved into his face.

I felt myself drift into thought. Was this guy a patient? He couldn't be. I knew _everyone _in the entire building and I had _never _seen this guy before. Besides, if he were a patient, he would be wearing a hospital garb. Setting Miss Bloody Cottontail, that's my bunny's name, in my lap, I tilted my head again.

"I've never seen you before, at least. . .I don't think so. Are you new here? Where's your nurse? Listen, you should get back to your room. Patients aren't allowed to wander around by themselves, especially at night. Who are you anyway?" I asked. The young man came around and stood beside me, just a few inches away.

He leaned in close. "You can call me Jeff, little girl" he paused, taking Miss Bloody Cottontail from my lap, "Do you like your bunny?" he asked, holding her up for me to see. I nodded, not speaking. The young man, who I now knew as Jeff, smirked, if he could smirk anymore with his big "smile".

"Good. It would be a shame if you didn't. . .heh heh heh heh"

"Wait. YOU gave this to me?!" I squeaked. Quick as light, Jeff slapped a hand over my mouth. He listened, making sure no one had heard me. After a minute or so, when no one showed up, he slowly slid his hand off my face. He gently pressed a thin finger to his lips, "Shhhhh. . ." he whispered, grinning at me afterwards.

I kept my eyes locked on his. I felt myself pale, my eyes wide with fear, and my jaw clamped so tight it hurt. I was trembling and it was weird because I had never experienced fear _this _intense before. But, for some reason, my fear slowly started to fade. It became more along the lines of shock and curiosity. I began to feel more relaxed. Why?! Why was I calming down?! Shouldn't I be scared for my life? This guy looked ready to kill me!

Jeff set my bunny back in my arms and straightened up. "I-I've been watching you. I've s-seen how you act. Now, here's a question heh heh heh heh. Have you experienced a _funny _feeling? Heh heh heh. . .

I blinked at him. Funny feeling? Does he mean the weird sensations I sometimes get? Without thinking, I nodded. His unblinking eyes widened and his smile grew larger, if that were possible. He pulled a knife, which was stained with dried blood, from his hoodie's pocket and gently rested the tip on my nose. I looked at the sharp end with crossed eyes.

Was he going to shove it in my face? I nearly cringed at the thought. Just when I thought he might kill me, he pulled the knife away and walked to the table under the bullet-proof glass window. I stared at him. What was he doing?

He picked up a syringe and spoke to me, "You know, I have that f-feeling too. And after watching you for a f-few days, I've made up my mind" he whispered, turning the syringe in his free hand before setting it down.

I felt the weird feeling again, only this time, I felt it coming from him. How can I feel something like that? How can I feel this desire to hurt others? I know that I've said before that I _wanted _to cause others pain, but. . .the thing is. . .I never understood just _why _I had these feelings. And _why _does _he _have the same feeling?

Back then, I couldn't answer these questions. Now, all these years later, I can. Well, after fiddling with the syringes on the table, Jeff picked up something from the table, but because his back was to me, I couldn't see what he had grabbed.

In order to calm my nerves, I fiddled with Miss Bloody Cottontail's black bloodied ribbon. I spoke quietly, "Made up your mind? About what?" I asked. I expected Jeff to say something, but what he did next caught me off guard.

He grabbed my arm and threw me off the bed. I crashed into the table holding the syringes and other equipment. The table fell over knocking all its contents off. My bunny had left my arms, having slid under my bed. She now lay in a strange position, almost like how a killer leaves his victim lying in an odd way.

I felt something wet and sticky trickle down my head and onto my face. Using a few fingers, I wiped my forehead and saw bright red liquid on my fingertips. Blood! Now, when it's blood from someone else, I have no problem with it. But when it's my own, I become worried.

Before I could react, I saw Jeff holding a container, marked "Bleach" by a sharpie and in messy handwriting. Where did that come from?! I was about to ask him where he got it, when he unscrewed the cap and dumped the chemical over my head.

It burned with an indescribable intensity. The fact that it seeped into my head injuries didn't help. My brain felt as if it was on fire. The pain was so unbearable that I started to scream in agony. Tears rolled down my face, more came down each second. I felt more liquid being splashed onto my body.

I smelled vodka, bleach, and. . .I.V?! I knew what vodka was, since I had seen a security guard in the lobby drink while on duty. Why was Jeff dousing me in these chemicals?!

As I choked from crying, I looked up at Jeff. He was grinning at me and I noticed something in his hand. It was a lighter. With a flick of his thumb, he switched it on. He smiled down at me.

"Now, I'd like to know your name" he said in that raspy, yet smooth voice. I coughed, choking on the dryness of my throat and the liquid that had seeped in. Yet, somehow, I found the strength to speak.

"J-Jennifer" I stuttered, "Jennifer. . . M-Madelyn. . . H-awkins!" I coughed out. Jeff tilted his head.

"Jennifer Madelyn Hawkins, huh? Hmmm. . .that's quite a mouthful" he paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he smirked. "I'm gonna call you. . .Jenny. . ."

I wasn't sure how to respond when I heard footsteps coming towards my room.

"Hurry, this way!" a security guard shouted.

"It's coming from Room 625! **(2)**" a nurse hollered.

It was obvious that they heard the crash and my screams of pain. The question was: would they get to me in time to stop this deranged lunatic? Jeff smiled at me.

"Now. . .I'm gonna make you cuter than you already are. Heh heh heh heh. . .Oh but don't worry, don't worry" he added, his voice soothing as if he were trying to comfort me. "I-It won't hurt. . .for long! Hehehehehehehheh!" and with that. . .

He tossed the lighter at me.

As soon as the flame made contact, I was engulfed by a fearsome inferno. I screamed to high Heaven. I felt as if my skin was melting off. Through my cries of suffering, I heard the fire alarms go off. The frantic shouts of scared and confused people reached my ears. More footsteps came and it sounded like a herd of horses running across a pasture.

Seconds ticked by slowly, too slow for my liking. I felt the bleach work on my skin. The fire was burning my hair at an intense rate. The vodka was making me smell like cooking meat. I smelled terrible, even worse than I did before. As I roasted there, on the dirty tile floor, I felt those weird sensations rip through my body. However, these feelings felt different, more powerful even.

As they moved through me, I saw everything flash before my eyes. I saw my parents, my sisters, my strange room, the asylum, my fellow patients, the nurses, doctors, security guards, everyone. Even. . .Jeff.

I heard a chuckle over the crackling of the flames and my fierce screams.

"Buh-bye, kiddo! I'll be back soon ahahahahahahahaha!" Jeff called, laughing insanely as he left. When he was gone, I saw my emotions, my personality dance like colors in front of my eyes. I felt the walls I had built up shatter. I felt everything breaking. My mood, my sanity, my coldness, everything. It all cracked like glass and fell to pieces before me.

The powerful feeling continued its crash course through my body. Suddenly, the power felt supernatural, not a part of this world. A throbbing pain entered my head. I shut my eyes to try to ease the pain. Nothing was working. An intense amount of energy rushed over every inch of being and the great power consumed me. Everything started to glow and spin.

The last thing I remember before passing out, was the bursting of the door as doctors and nurses rushed in. I heard their terrified screams as they saw me lying there, burning helplessly on the floor. I saw Dr. Monroe and Nurse Anderson, both of their faces conformed into terror the minute they saw me.

Nurse Anderson screamed as two nurses tried t extinguish the flames. . .and me.

In a matter of seconds, I was taken to a dark dreamland.

***Intermission* **

I woke with a start. I could see nothing but pitch black darkness. Something was covering my face. I think it was a bandage, or a couple of bandages. I felt more bandages, this time on my arms, legs, shoulders, almost every part of my body. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I heard the beeping of a heart monitor and felt the after effects of I.V.

My head hurt, hell every part of my body was hurting. The painkillers, if I had been given any at all, must have worn off. My skin felt irritable and I could sense that my hands and feet were twitching. I had the intense desire to move. As I sat up, I felt a bunch of tubes in my body. There were two in my arms, one for each, two in my nose, and one down my throat.

Suddenly, I felt both the tubes in my arms fall out and one of the machines, which one I don't remember, set off an alarm. I heard the door open and the click-clack of heeled shoes. "Miss Jennifer, please lie back down! You can't get out of bed just yet" a familiar voice called sweetly.

It was Nurse Anderson's voice. Gently, she pushed down on my shoulders and put the tubes back in place. I heard her press a few button's, checking the machines. Once she was done, I heard her sigh in relief. "Please understand, sweetie. You've just been through quite an ordeal. All I ask is for you to lie down and get some rest" she whispered kindly.

I couldn't object, with the bandages on my face and the feeding tube in my mouth and all, so I just laid there. I heard the clicking of Rebecca's shoes as she left, closing the door behind her. I laid in that bed for a long time, I guess. I allowed myself to drift in and out of sleep. When I wasn't sleeping, I was thinking about Jeff, the feeling, the supernatural power, etc. However, when I did sleep, I was taken into a dark yet playful land.

I guess it was the child part of me, that longed to imagine and escape the cruelness of reality and leap into a world where anything was possible. In my dream world, I wore dark colored, but cute, frilly dresses, played with wild beasts, ate as many sweets as I could, did whatever I wanted to do. I never wanted to leave this world, because reality is an unpleasant thing.

Waking up from these dreams knowing that nothing that I had done had actually happened was unsettling. I was always disappointed and angry. Why couldn't reality be as nice? Maybe it is for you. But then again, you're not in an insane asylum where you are abused daily, are you?

Well, weeks passed I think, I really don't remember how long it was, and then the day came where I would get my bandages and casts removed. Most of the staff, including Dr. Monroe, came to see the unveiling. Some of the patients, like Makenzie and Henry, came to see it as well.

One of the doctors, I'm not sure who, began removing the tubes from my body. He started with the ones in my arms. He jerked them out pretty quickly, but surprisingly, it didn't hurt. I didn't even flinch, well maybe I did, but I was startled by the quickness of it. I heard a nurse chuckle. I grit my teeth in annoyance, but of course, they couldn't see that. Next, the tubes in my nose were taken out, this time, gently.

I no longer felt cool, clean air being pumped into my nose. Instead, I breathed in the rancid air around me. As odd as this sounds, I want the breathing hose back. Lastly, the feeding tube was pulled out of my mouth. I gagged as the doctor pulled it out. I started to feel bile come up my throat. Just when I thought I might throw up, Dr. Monroe came up around side my bed and whispered to me fiercely, "If you vomit on this man, I will make sure you get twice as many doses a day. Understand girl?!" he growled in that whisper.

I swallowed the bile and allowed the rest of the feeding tube to come out. They had cut holes in my face cast to get the feeding and breathing tubes in me without disturbing the healing process, if you were wondering about that. As soon as the tubes were out, the doctor began removing my bandages. He started with the ones on my body and worked his way up.

I just sat there, staring at nothing. He had not yet removed the face cast. Then, it was time to remove the bandages from my face. The doctor cradled my head in his palm and carefully unwrapped the bandages holding the cloth over my face. I could feel the suspense in the air.

Everyone would want to see what I would look like. Needless to say, I was curious as well.

I felt the last bandage was about to be removed. "Now, let's see what Miss Hawkins looks like" the doctor said. I felt the last bandage come off, letting the cloth fall from my face. I opened my eyes and everyone gasped.

Some looked horrified, others were just shocked. My eyes scanned the room. Everyone, including the patients, who had pressed themselves against the bullet-proof glass window, were stunned. All eyes were on me, widened in disbelief. My nurse covered her mouth in complete horror. I blinked, pretty sure there was a worried look on my face.

"W-what?" I choked out, "What's wrong?"

Nurse Anderson looked around, unsure. Then, she grabbed a mirror and slowly came towards me. Once at the left side of my bed, she slipped the mirror in my hands. I brought the object up to my face, eyes closed. I was scared, yet curious, as to what the reflection staring back at me would look like.

I opened my eyes.

They widened in complete shock. I almost dropped the mirror.

My skin was a snow white color, no longer the soft peach tone it had once been. My hair was now a glossy jet black. To my surprise, none of it had burned off. Every strand was right where it should be. No bit of my hair was out of place. My lips were white too. But what surprised me the most, were my eyes.

They were no longer the beautiful brown they originally were. The irises of my eyes were now pink. I think they were rose pink or hot pink, but either way they were pink. I touched my face. It felt slightly leathery, but otherwise still soft. I noticed that my hands were white as well. I gasped in realization.

My entire body, all the skin on me, was now completely white. I remembered the bleach Jeff had poured on me. '_So that's how it happened' _I thought to myself.

I know I should've felt sad, maybe even horrified at my new look, but for some reason. . .I was happy. I felt ecstatic about my new look. My eyes were now a much prettier color and my hair felt softer, even though it had been burned. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but I tried to hide the incoming smile.

"Miss Hawkins. . .i-it's not that bad really. I-It's just, um, you see it's. . ." Dr. Monroe tried to say something, but he couldn't think of what to say. Finally, I allowed the smile to appear.

"Not that bad? It's great! Heh heh heh heheheheheheh!" I listened to myself laugh. I heard it become slightly demonic before I stopped and just stared at my reflection. I happened to notice how everyone was staring at me. They looked stunned at what I had said.

I didn't know why. I was happy, so why should they be concerned? I found out a little while later. Apparently, while I was burning, my personality did a flip. I was no longer the moody, uncaring, mocking child. My personality now consisted of smiles, happiness, cheerfulness, and just flat out excitement. I felt better than ever. I felt as if I could smile forever I was so happy. Of course, something else had changed. The feeling had become stronger, so had the supernatural power I had felt while on fire. But did those idiots know? Of course not!

"M-miss Jennifer. . . ? Are y-you okay?" a nurse asked. I smiled with enthusiasm and stared at her. "Okay?! I've never been happier! Heheheheheheheh hehehehehehe hehehehe!" I giggled out.

Nurse Anderson put her hand on my forehead. "She doesn't have a fever. Dr. Monroe, are you sure she's alright? You know, in the head?" she asked, looking at the director. Dr. Monroe approached me and looked me over.

"I suppose so. She has taken an exorbitant amount of painkillers. That, and the drugs that were recently put in her system may be the cause of this behavior. No matter, as long as her vitals are stable, she's still useful as a test subject" he confirmed.

Rebecca glared at him, her hand sliding gently off my forehead. "What?! Pardon me, sir, but you can't be serious?! This child just received third-degree burns and right off the bat, you decide that it's still okay to test drugs on her?! Don't you have a heart?!" she growled.

Dr. Monroe held up his hand to silence her. "It matters not what ordeals a patient goes through, as long as they're still in good condition, they can still be used as test subjects. Yes, this child did receive intense burns, but look at her, Anderson! She's still in good health and all her vitals are in order! Unless there's an extreme problem, I see no need to stop the tests on this child"

"But Dr. Monroe-"

"ENOUGH! This child is in good condition and I say that the tests will continue! Now, unless you want to lose your job, Anderson, which we both know you can't afford, you will get back to work! I will not hear another word of this!" he turned to the other staff members, "Well? What are you all waiting for?! Instructions?! GET BACK TO WORK!" he snapped.

He then looked at the patients still plastered to my window, "And get these delinquents back to their rooms!" Quickly, everyone rushed out of my room. Nurse Anderson took the mirror from my hands. I smiled up at her. She smiled sadly at me and turned to leave. I waved goodbye as she left.

Dr. Monroe approached me. "Listen to me girl. Don't think that just because you got hurt means that the injections will stop" That's when my smile vanished. What?! He's still going to have tests performed on me?! I had been too distracted by my new appearance to listen in fully on their conversation. The director gave me a light pat on the head and left quietly, locking the door behind him.

I sat there, bewildered. I was to be used for testing, no matter what happened to me. I felt sad. I felt angry. I felt scared. I felt. . .the feeling. Then the power that had coursed through my veins from before.

_**SNAP! **_

I felt natural thoughts leave my mind. Darkness washed over my brain. My psyche was at its breaking point. I suddenly felt a rush of excitement. I felt the desire to hurt someone. . .to kill someone. The feeling had been with me before I entered this place.

Now I get it. I was born to hurt others, wasn't I? I started to giggle insanely. I felt so happy! My new appearance was great, this feeling was wonderful, and this new power was making my body tingle.

I threw up my hands. That's when I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. I looked near the bullet-proof window.

The syringes were floating. I moved my hands down. The syringes set themselves on the table. I moved my hands again, this time off to the side, and the syringes were blown off the table. I looked at my hands. Was I doing this?

I closed my eyes and imagined everything in the room, including my bed, floating. I felt my bed leave the ground. I opened my eyes to find myself floating on my bed. The bolts holding down my resting placed had popped out. The syringes, the table, the nightstand, everything. . .were floating.

It felt as if I was in a dream. I turned my hands and the objects spun gently. I looked up at the overhead light. I reached up for it, imagining it flickering. I carefully moved my hand back and forth. The light flickered with my hand movements.

I smiled a genuine smile and continued happily playing with the objects in the room. The feeling was growing stronger and reached a point where I got a headache. I put everything down gently and held my head. I breathed deeply until it subsided.

Then, I quietly fell asleep. When I awoke, it was a little after 11:00 p.m. I yawned and stretched out my legs. I kicked something that had been resting on my bed. It was a box.

It was wrapped in light pink wrapping paper and decorated with a big black and dark pink bow.

"Ooooo cute!" I said, clapping my hands. I reached for the box and found a note attached to it.

_Dear Jenny,_

_Hey squirt! Sorry I burned you, but it was necessary. You see, I watched you because I was looking for someone to train as my apprentice and be my assistant. I picked you because the feeling coming from you was very enjoyable. Now that you're even cuter than before, I decided to get you something to complete your look. Everything is in the box. By the way, if you're wondering about your bunny, she's in the box too. Oh and she has a little surprise for you. Get your outfit on and get the present from your bunny. I'll meet with you shortly. _

_-Love, Jeffrey the Killer _

_P.S. Enjoy your new toy. Let's see what you can do. Heh heh heh heh! _

I put the note on the nightstand and ripped the wrapping paper off the box. Pulling it open, I found a plain black tank top, a plain white hoodie, a long country-style white skirt, and a pair of black ballet flats with ribbon straps. Lastly, there were a pair of thin white hair ribbons. All were my size.

Miss Bloody Cottontail was in there too, underneath the clothes though. She still had her bloodied black bow. I hugged her tight, happy to see her again. I set her between my legs and pulled out my new outfit. I slipped off the bed with the bundle of clothes in my arms. I pulled off my stained pale blue hospital gown, happy to be rid of it. I kicked it under the bed.

I pulled the tank top over my head, then the hoodie. It felt so nice to be wearing clean clothes again. I slipped into the skirt, loving how wishy it was when I twirled. I pulled on the ballet flats, tying the ribbon straps into pretty bows. They were pretty comfortable and I felt like a ballerina.

I grabbed the mirror and watched myself tie the thin white ribbons into bows in my hair, one on both sides of my head. I ruffled my long, jet black hair. Now I was ready. But, didn't Jeff say that my bunny had a surprise for me?

I checked Miss Bloody Cottontail. Nothing about her looked different. I turned her over in my hands. When I flipped her to look at her from behind, I saw that she had been stitched up in the back. I quirked an eyebrow, surprised that I still had eyebrows, and stared at the stitching.

Those weren't there before. I noticed that the stitching was loose. Carefully, I tore my bunny open. Now that I think about it, she did feel heavier. I dug into the opening and felt something sold. I gripped it and began to pull it out, slowly.

At first, I saw a handle. But as I pulled it out, I soon discovered what the handle was attached to. A blade.

It was a switch blade. A very pretty one at that.

It looked brand new and it gleamed in the dim light. I noticed that the handle had intricate black rose patterns edged on it. It was such a beautiful knife and it fit perfectly in my small hands.

Suddenly, the feeling returned, stronger than ever. I felt happy, excited, sinister, and most of all. . .the urge to spill blood. I smirked and then looked out the bullet-proof window.

"I think you all need to be taught a lesson. I'm not your toy. Neither are the rest of these people" I smirked, giggling.

"I think it's time. . .for you to go to sleep. . .sweet eternal dreams"

***Intermission* **

I was so ecstatic! The idea of harming these people, the same ones who harmed me and all the other patients, felt great! I sat beneath the bullet-proof window that looked into my room and began thinking up a plan.

The first thing I would need to do would be to get out of my room. The door was always locked and, after the recent security failure, a guard kept watch outside my door. I would need to fake something so he would come in here. What to do with him then, I think I had an idea.

After that, I would need to get to the security room and free all the patients, not to mention deactivate all the security cameras and the main system. Of course, many staff members, including my nurse, were still in the building. I'd have to avoid them while on my way there.

As the list of people to kill increased in my brain, I thought about people I would spare. The decision about the other patients was obvious. Of course I was going to let them live, they've already suffered plenty! And there was no question about Nurse Anderson.

I HAD to make sure she was unharmed. She had been so kind to me, how could I end her life when she did nothing wrong? That question answers itself. So, my list of who to let live was decided. Everyone else was sentenced to the eternal dream-world. That, of course, includes Dr. Monroe.

Once I had made my list, I looked for something to knock over. I scanned the room with my rose pink-colored eyes. I looked at the bed, the chair, nightstand, etc. After I discovered my strange ability, I used it to put the bolts back in place. So, I guess the furniture was out of the question. Then, my eyes caught sight of the I.V stand that the nurses forgot to take with them.

I smirked. I guess that if I knocked it over and, maybe let out a little scream, I could get that guard in the room. Hiding my pretty knife in the pocket of my hoodie, I walked over to the I.V stand and gave it a good push.

_**CLASH! **_

The stand fell over, clattering to the floor. As it fell, I let out a high pitched scream. I heard the guard topple his chair over in fright and desperately trying to get the door open. Quickly, to make it look convincing, I put my hand in my hoodie pocket and quickly cut my hand on the blade's edge.

It didn't hurt much, thanks to the overdose in painkillers. I took it even further and hit my head against the bed frame. One of my head wounds opened, allowing a fresh stream of blood to trickle down my forehead. I pretend to fall to the ground and began to fake sobbing just as the guard came rushing in.

He knelt over me and looked at me in shock.

"Are you okay?!" he asked worriedly. I looked up at him, fake tears in my eyes.

I sniffed. "A weird man, the same one who attacked me before, came back. He tried to kill me! He threw me into the bed frame. He tried to stab me and I cut my hand trying to stop the knife. He left when he heard you coming in" I pretend wailed.

The guard pulled me into a hug, obviously believing my ruse. "Hey, it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay" he said soothingly. As I continued my act, I reached into my hoodie pocket and withdrew the knife that was hidden there.

I aimed in downward, just below the nape of his neck. The tip of the blade was just mere centimeters from piercing his skin. I had never taken a life before, so I would see if I was cut out for killing. Quickly, but carefully, I raised the knife, aiming it in the same spot, then. . .

I plunged it in the back of his neck, just below the nape. He gave a loud grunt of pain, I felt blood spurt on my shoulder. He choked loudly on his own blood. I allowed him to slip from my shoulder and land with a "thud" on the cold tile floor. He gave one last choke, and then the light vanished from his eyes.

I watched as the blood from his neck and mouth pool underneath his head. His mouth was open, his eyes were lifeless, but his blood was warm and sticky. I looked at my now bloodied hands. I felt the feeling rush through me.

I started to smile as I lightly giggled. I realized that I like blood and. . .that I like to spill it. It felt warm on my slightly cold skin and the feeling of red liquid on my hands made me realize how much fun it was to stab someone.

I stare down at the dead body, I small smirk on my face. I stepped over him and reached down, yanking my knife from his neck. I twirled the weapon in my hand. This was easy. Killing was just WAY too easy! If I could stab a guy who was paid to carry a gun that easily, then I could hurt anybody!

I walked out of the room, feeling great. Just as I reached the doorway, I stopped. I spotted a security camera just a few yards away to the right, mounted above a storage closet. Unfortunately, that direction was where the security room was.

At that age, if I knew any curse words, I would've probably used one. Obviously, the camera would see me going that way and, if the guy in the camera room was awake, he would see me and alert the staff. I had to find a way around that camera and the others that were down that way.

I sat in the doorway for what seemed like a while, trying to think up a way to get to the security room without being recorded by any of the cameras. As for the staff, that was I bridge I would cross when I got there. I thought and thought, trying to come up with a plan.

Then it hit me.

My strange power allowed me to move objects at will. I wondered, what else could I do? What else was I capable of? I got up, listening to the blood drip drop off my skirt, and peered around the door frame at the security camera.

I stared at it, focusing my power on that one thing. I pictured it moving back and forth steadily, then faster, and faster, and faster. As I imagined it, the camera did exactly that. It shook back and forth, sparking and hissing. If it were a living thing, it would look like it was having a spasm. Finally, as if to end its suffering, I balled my fist up and the camera shorted out and died, letting out a final squeak.

I watched it smoke for about a second, then dashed down the hallway, my knife hidden in my hoodie pocket. My skirt swished and swayed as I ran. The last time I ran that fast was when I was playing tag with my sisters at my third birthday party. Oh how I missed running! It felt good to run. I felt so free, despite still being trapped in the asylum.

Each security camera I came to, I shorted it out. Even if the guy in the security room was asleep, I couldn't take any chances. As for the staff, I couldn't kill them head on. I needed to shut the power off, then I could make my move. I avoided anyone I saw coming. I hid in closets, behind trash cans, underneath supply carts, etc.

One nurse almost caught me, I think she saw me out of the corner of her eye. But when I heard her brush it off (she thought she was tired), I sighed in relief. After a few more close encounters, I made it to the security room.

The door was slightly cracked, so I was able to push it open without much effort. The room was dark, aside from the light given off by the computer monitors. Quiet as a baby mouse, I slipped into the room, gently shutting the door behind me. A soft snoring startled me. I carefully tip-toed up to the guard's chair and peered around to look at him.

He was asleep. I smirked, this would be easy. I had to kill him. I could slit his throat, but I would need something to stand on. I looked around the small room. I saw a trash can full of old junk food bags, empty of spilled foam coffee cups, crumpled wads of paper, etc. Then, my eyes rested on a stool. I lightly ran over and slowly started to push it towards the guard's chair.

The stool slightly squeaked and the guy let out noises at least twice, but he didn't wake up. Carefully, I climbed up to stand on the stool. I nearly fell off, but I grabbed the top of the chair and balanced myself out. I lightly peered over the guy's head, just to make sure he really was asleep.

He was. Good. Then this would be much easier.

I took my cute switchblade from my pocket and angled it so I could make a horizontal slash in his throat. Quickly, I slit his throat, but the cut wasn't deep enough. The man woke with a start, but before he could register what was happening, I lodged my knife in neck, killing him in an instant.

His body went limp, blood flowing onto his uniform and down his arms, lightly dripping from his fingertips and forming small puddles of blood on the floor. I ripped the blade from his throat and looked at the blood covering my small hands and the cuffs of my hoodie.

This was getting more and more fun. With the guy dead, I had to figure out a way to shut off the security system and the cameras. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about technology, so. . .I had no idea what to do. Luckily, I happened to knock over a cup of now cold coffee, which spilled over the control board. The machine sparked and cracked a little, before shorting out altogether.

I stared at it, blinking, surprised. "Huh. . .well, that was easy!"**(3)** I said, a smile forming on my face. I hopped down from the chair and hurried towards the door. I pulled it open slightly, only to see all the patients running down the hall, howling and crying in joy, enjoying the freedom.

I watched with a happy and amused smile as doctors, nurses, and guards tried to secure them. Guards were thrown to the ground, nurses were tripped and some slipped on the floor, and doctors were shoved up against the wall quite painfully. When all the patients in that corridor had gone, guards and other personnel picked themselves up off the floor, groaning and whining in pain.

I smirked. This was fun! The staff asked each other if they were okay, how on earth did the patients get out, what happened to the cameras, etc. Some came towards the security room. I was scared, I thought they would find me.

Just as a doctor grabbed the handle, a nurse screamed loud enough to shatter a wine glass.

Everyone in the hall rushed down the corridor. I heard gasps of horror and quick murmurs. Quietly, I slid through the door and darted some ways to the other end of the hall and hid in a darkened corner. I could still hear them talking.

"What the hell happened?!"

"Where's the little girl that was in here?"

"Who did this?!"

I giggled. They're such a bunch of idiots! Then, I heard one of the guards use his radio. "Officer Stevens to the Main Desk. Officer Stevens to the Main Desk. Anyone there? Yeah, we have a situation. Yes, other than the patients escaping. Well, remember that young girl who got burned real bad a couple of weeks ago? Yeah, well, the door to her room is unlocked, she's gone, and the guard who was watching her is dead. Yeah, alright, we're on it. I'll call the police department so we can round up the patients. Alright, I'll also call Dr. Monroe and let him know what's going on. Yeah, thank you"

With that, I scurried down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible. I was nearing the entrance to the East Wing when the power suddenly failed. I could hear screams and cries of shock. I stood perfectly still, wondering what had happened. Obviously the power went out. Was it a blackout, or. . .something else?

I sat down on the cold tile and patiently waited for something to happen. After a minute or so, I heard a rumbling and whirling and then the emergency lights kicked on. The blubs were colored red, so they illuminated the halls in a dark, eerie red light. It looked as if everything was covered in blood.

I liked it. This place was much cooler after that. Now having my sight returned, I continued into the East Wing and found a flight of stairs leading to the basement. As I started my descent, I noticed there were blood splatters on the steps, leaving a trail. Someone had gone down not too long ago. I could tell because the blood smelled fresh.

Careful not to slip, I moved easily down the steps. The farther down I went, the darker it got. After a few minutes, I reached the bottom of the stairs and quietly walked into the basement. I couldn't see squat, so I listened carefully.

I heard someone grumbling in frustration and stopped dead in my tracks.

"Hello?" I called out. The noise stopped. Then. . .I heard a faint laugh. It sounded sinister. I heard footsteps coming towards me, at least, that's what I thought. I reached out in front of me and felt a material of some sort.

I grabbed it. It felt like the material for jeans. I heard the laugh again, but this time. . .it was right in front of me. . .

"I found you, kiddo. . .Hehehehehehehehe. . .Or, more like you found me. . ."

". . .Jeff?" I asked.

"Yeah"

"Did you turn off the lights?"

"I did, I had to"

"Why?"

". . .You'll find out soon. But for now, I need you to come with me" He said with that same voice. Jeff walked past me, heading towards the stairs. I followed the sound of his footsteps. I trotted up the stairs, trying to avoid slipping on the blood. "Where did the blood come from?" I saw him smirk, his hair hiding his eyes.

"I thought that would've been obvious" he murmured. I said nothing and continued after him. He led me down to the main floor. The lobby was deserted. I noticed that the receptionist was dead. She was hanging over the front of her desk, blood trickling down her arms. I didn't kill her, so I guess my previous question had been answered.

Jeff went behind the desk and grabbed the corpse by the hair. He yanked her back into the spiny chair. With that, he withdrew one of the scariest looking knives I have ever seen from his pocket. He made several cuts in the corpse's face.

After a few minutes, he spun the chair around to show me. He had carved a smile into the face of the dead woman. I was surprised, but not disgusted. Jeff leaned over her, holding her head in place with his hand.

"I made her beautiful. See? Look how _happy_ she is. Doesn't that _smile_ just say it all?" he asked. I stared at the now damaged corpse.

"That's an interesting way to make people smile" I replied, very amused. Jeff just looked at me.

"You think so?"

"Mm-Hm!" I said, smiling. Jeff gave an amused chuckle. "If you like this, let's see what we can do about that stupid director"

"Huh, you mean Dr. Monroe?"

"Yeah"

"I hate him so much. I hate everyone in this building, except my nurse. I wish I could kill them!" I grit my teeth in anger, remembering everything that they had done to me. Jeff lightly ruffled my hair and said, "Well, lucky for you, I'm a killer. I'll help you do it, but you have to agree to one thing: If I help you, you have to become my apprentice and assistant"

I looked at him with confusion. What was an apprentice? I had no idea. I wanted to ask him, but decided to find out later. Right now, I knew I was going to need his help if I wanted to kill these awful people. I agreed. He grinned at me.

"Follow me" he whispered, gesturing with his head to the door next to us.

Dr. Sebastian Monroe's Office. I smirked.

This was gonna be fun.

***Intermission* **

I don't remember how long we hid in Dr. Monroe's office. All I know is, it was a very long time. We sat together in the darkness. All I could hear was the commotion of the people outside, Jeff's light breathing and the pounding of my heart.

I will admit, I did feel a little scared, being so close to a serial killer. I was right in front of him the entire time, crouching with my back to him. If I weren't his apprentice, he most likely would've killed me. The fear in the air was so thick you could've sliced it with a knife and put it on a plate.

Isn't just my fear though. . .it was the fear of everyone it that building. The confusion, the shock, the not understanding of what was going on, everything. It was like it was bundled up and just thrashing around like a caged animal, longing to be free and cause even more chaos.

I noticed that the digital clock sitting on the director's desk showed 3:00 a.m in an eerie green light.

"Can you feel it?" Jeff's whisper startled me from my thoughts. "The fear? Heheheheheheheheh. . .it's so. . . so unbelievable, right? Jenny?"

I made a small noise in agreement. I was about to speak again, when the door opened. And in came our main target: Director Sebastian Monroe. He seemed so frantic and out of it that he didn't bother to turn on a light, not that he could anyway, thanks to Jeff.

"Oh God. . .how did I let this happen? . . .The media's going to eat me alive for this. . .my perfect institution. . .ruined!" he grumbled. He quickly started up his laptop, which still had enough battery life in it, and pulled out his old-fashioned cell phone. "Hello? Yes, this is Dr. Sebastian Monroe, head of the Boston Asylum for the Mentally Ill. I have a crisis going on down here. The power's been shut off, my patients are running rampant, a few of my staff are dead. I don't know what to make of it. You have to-"

He suddenly stopped, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Hm? Jeffrey Woods? That kid who went insane and murdered his family? Wait a moment-Why should I be concerned about that?!" he paused, listening for a moment, "What?! He's here in Boston?! Oh God! I'll, uh, keep an eye out. Yes, yes! I won't make contact! Alright, thank you" with that, he hung up the phone.

I felt Jeff stand up behind me. He walked around me and headed over to the door. Dr. Monroe didn't see him, till he heard a light "tap". I saw the director's head snap up and watched him jump back in fright.

Jeff was standing right in front of his desk. "Hey there" the 17 year-old said in a slightly whispering voice.

"You! You-you. . .you made a mess of my institution. You killed some of my staff. And I bet you're the one that burned the Hawkins girl too. Why?! Why are you doing this?! What do you have to gain from all this?!" Dr. Monroe growled.

Jeff let out a spooky laugh. "Why?" he laughed, "Oh, isn't it obvious? Because I can and because it's just _so _much fun! Though, I don't see _why _I have to explain myself to _you_" he paused, thinking, "But if you want to know my true intentions, I may as well just come out with it: I want an apprentice and I think I found the perfect person to train"

The director looked baffled. "An. . .apprentice? Why would you need an apprentice? And furthermore, which pathetic individual here could be so perfect as to train to become a killer?"

Jeff looked over at me and gestured with his head for me to come over. I happily ran over to him and sorta grabbed onto his left leg. Dr. Monroe stared in shock. "W-what?! Miss Hawkins?!" I just smiled at him, trying to copy Jeff's typical grin.

We were quiet for a moment, until we heard several things breaking outside the room.

"Attention Jeffrey Woods! This is the police! Come out with your hands up! And hand over the hostages!" That was definitely an angry police chief. What were we going to do? I haven't even gotten to stab the director yet. If I could just get one good stab in, I would be satisfied.

Dr. Monroe smirked. "There, see! The police are here and you have no means of escape. It's over!" he shouted. Jeff, however, appeared to be unfazed.

He let out an amused insane laugh. "You think I haven't done this before, old man? I _always _have a way of escaping. I've been running from these idiots since I was thirteen. No way in _hell _am I going to prison" he said, smirking.

The door behind us started banging rapidly. No doubt the cops were trying to break down the door. Jeff had barricaded it with a chair. Though, I doubted it would hold them off for long. Dr. Monroe was sweating, very scared for what was to come next. Jeff walked up to him till he had cornered the director.

"You wanna know something, old man? What you're doing here. . .is probably ten-times worse than the crap I went through! Do you enjoy making this awful world even _worse_ for eveyone?! Especially _this_ little girl?!" he growled.

The director just trembled, unable to speak. The pounding on the door grew more rapid, indicating that the police had no intention of giving up. I began to feel worried. What were we going to do? We were trapped in this small room, with no other means of escape. No window, no other door, no nothing. Was it really the end of the line for me? For Jeff?

Just as I was about to knock the chair over and let the police in, because I saw no other way, Jeff reached into his blood-stained hoodie and pulled out what appeared to be a small remote. It wasn't a TV a remote, more like a garage door remote, if I can recall. Jeff walked over to me and stared at the director, showing him the remote.

"Ya know, old man, I don't just use knives to kill" he paused, holding out the remote with his thumb hovering over the red button. The director's eyes widened in realization. Jeff's grin got bigger. I, however, was confused at what he said.

With one last, sinister smile, Jeff said, in that creepy voice, "I think it's time. . .for you to Go. To. Sleep!" and then. . .he pressed the button. For a split second nothing happened, then. . .the whole building gave a jolt.

I stumbled a little, before falling face-first into Jeff's legs. Pieces of the ceiling started coming down in chunks and furniture and other objects were thrown across the room. Outside I heard the police officers grunts and terrified cries. I shut my eyes and clung to Jeff's pant leg.

I heard the director shout at him, "What-what did you do, you maniacal bastard?!" Jeff just let out an insane laugh.

"Ohhhh~ nothing really. I just attached an explosive to the water heater in the basement. I assume you know what happens when it blows, right~?" he asked, faking innocence. The director sounded scared, "You-you monster! The whole building's going to collapse!"

Jeff smirked, dropped the remote, which slightly hit my head, and grabbed my hand. "Yeah, but it seems like a fitting end for a place that treats people like shit. Oh well~! I gotta run so. . .bye~! Hope all your bones break! Ahahahahahahahahaha!" he laughed, running out of the office, holding my hand.

The building began to collapse at a faster rate and several times we were almost crushed by falling debris. Luckily, we managed to get out before the exit was completely barred by rubble. We ran across the street and slide into a ditch. Police cars, ambulance, and fire trucks arrived shortly after, the building having gone up in flames.

I don't remember how long we hid in that ditch, but I do know it was quite a while before we got the chance to slip away unnoticed. As we hid there, I suddenly remembered that I forgot to warn my nurse, but that was before I saw her running to her car. A police officer stopped her and started talking to her. I couldn't hear what they were saying. Jeff pulled me back down, saying that someone could've spotted me. As time passed, I remembered that I forgot Miss Bloody Cottontail, that was, until Jeff pulled her out of his hoodie pocket.

I thanked him and grabbed my rabbit, hugging her tight. Jeff peaked over the edge of the ditch every so often to see if the coast was clear. Every time he did, he said we had to wait a little while longer. A major section of the asylum was nothing but rubble. I may have not been able to kill the director myself, but I felt satisfied knowing that the place which tormented me was destroyed.

It felt good to be free. I could do whatever I wanted now. My family had abandoned me, but I no longer cared for them. They were now on my To Kill-list. I don't need them anymore. I have Jeff and that's good enough for me.

Well, after of what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Jeff nudged me and said that our opportunity to escape had come. He hoisted me over the edge and then pulled himself up. While no one was watching, he took my hand and together. . .

We fled into the night. . .

***Screen shifts to what appears to be a camera recording. A young girl, looking to be in her early teens, is tied to a chair, her hands bound behind her and a gag over her mouth. The camera is focused on her. Her eyes show intense fear. A voice starts talking off screen* **

That was six years ago, and oh dear, it was a memory I will never forget. That was the day I met my mentor, my creator, my new big brother. It was also the day I realized my destiny. I was born a _monster_. And I doubt that will ever change.

***Another girl appears and walks up to the camera. She looks to be about 11 years old. Her hair is jet black, straight, and goes a little ways past her butt. She has snow white skin. She is dressed entirely in black. The irises of her eyes are a bright rose pink. In her hand. . .she hold a decorative kitchen knife. This is Jennifer Madelyn Hawkins. . .6 years later. . .or better known as. . .Jenny the Killer. She smiles lightly at the camera* **

"I wish I could tell you the events that transpired after that, but. . .I think you should find that out for yourself. Okay? Tee hee~! Now, if you'll excuse me," I show my knife to the camera, "I have some. . ._business_ I need to take care of"

***Jenny goes towards the bounded and gagged girl, who has started to cry. Jenny walks behind her and angles her knife downward and grabs her hair, pulling her head back, so she can see her captor***

"Shhhh. . .I know you're scared. This world is nothing but a cruel nightmare, isn't it? Heh heh, that's why I need you to. . .Go. To. Sleep! And have sweet _eternal _dreams. . ."

***Somehow, the camera gets knocked over. The girl's muffled cries are heard along with the splattering sound of blood. Blood splatters on the camera lens, the screen goes black and it shuts off, but not before one last sentence is said* **

"We'll be waiting. . .Go. To. Sleep! Ahahahahahahahahahah!"

**(1)-Can anyone guess what Jenny was going carve into that guy?**

**(2) Who wants to guess the significance of Jenny's room number?**

**(3) See what I did there? Guess where that line is from?**

**Digital knife shaped cookies to anyone who can guess all three~! How did I do? This was my first Creepypasta, so be nice. If you have any advice on how I can make it better, please leave it in your review. This story is one of the three prequels to a Creepypasta Chronicles series I intend to write, so keep an eye out for the next prequel: Jett the Killer Origins~!**

**FINALLY, IT'S DONE~! Review and Adieu! Yuki out!**


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